


To Wait For Love

by delatrose



Series: Steel Type Deikuns [2]
Category: Universal Century Gundam
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 21:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delatrose/pseuds/delatrose
Summary: Garma falls ill soon after his and Casval's wet walk.





	To Wait For Love

**Author's Note:**

> hello, just another fun little oneshot in this shoujo trope universe i wrote bc i couldn't write in my other au (it did help me clear my head whew back to that monster). the only thing i looked up for this was the translation of a fever into celsius, the rest i know bc i 1. had the flu 2. am a biology student
> 
> this ending is certainly less ambiguous than the last but i still feel the tag fits. don't think any of this means they're in a relationship yet, this is a shoujo
> 
> edited and updated: 02/12/2020  
edit 2: 04/02/2020

“I don’t see why_ I_ have to go.”

“Well it’s your fault, isn’t it?” Artesia accuses from the top of the stairs as he puts his shoes on. “You walk him home in the rain and three days later he gets sick, you should have taken better care of him.” Casval just rolls his eyes, she didn’t know Garma was the one who ran out from under the umbrella in the first place.

“Well I’m not sick, am I?” he counters and she gives him a tired look.

“When was the last time you got sick?” It’s a fair point since the answer is never and he can only sigh in resignation. “Come on, Casval, don’t pretend you aren’t dying to be alone with him… I know you like him.”

He shoots her an annoyed look but she just puts her elbows on the railing and smiles evilly down at him.

“You think I don’t know my brother well enough to know when he’s got a crush? You’re so cute when you can barely talk around him and I’ve caught you staring at least five times, if that’s not love I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s not that I can’t talk, it’s just that he talks so much it’s hard to talk around him,” Casval explains and stands up, kicking his toes on the floor to get his shoes on just right.

“Oh, _please_, I interrupt him all the time. He doesn’t care at all and neither do you, usually. But Garma’s different, isn’t he?”

“I’m going, Artesia. Don’t make too much of a mess while I’m gone,” he warns as he opens the door.

“Like I’m not the one who cleans up after your messes. See you when you get back from your boyfriend’s. Or, at least, you should make him your boyfriend, and fast, he’s very popular—”

“Goodbye, Artesia.” He doesn’t even look at her as he closes the door and walks out.

Garma’s house isn’t too far away from his own so it takes maybe five minutes to walk over and press the bell outside the gate. He waits for less than a minute before the gate opens and he pushes his way inside. No one else seems to be home and only a lone robot scrambles around his feet, cleaning the floor where he’d walked in despite him having taken off his shoes before entering.

The main reason he hadn’t wanted to come is that he really hates the Zabi household, everything here is somehow even more strict than his own household. It’s barren and cold, the floors white marble and the golden walls pristine with pseudo-columns at every corner. He wonders how such an environment ever produced someone like Garma, sweet and gentle and so much unlike any other Zabi.

Ok, so maybe Artesia did have a point with all her teasing and maybe it had taken all of his strength to not kiss Garma when he almost fell but that’s beside the point. This place annoys him and he’s only here to make sure Garma doesn’t somehow make himself even more sick while both their families are out of town.

“Casval? Is that really you?” He hears Garma’s tiny voice and looks up to see the idiot peeking around the corner, out of bed and looking awful. He has bags under his eyes, his skin is more sallow than usual with sweat dripping down his forehead, and his body trembles with the effort it had taken him to walk out of his room.

“Garma,” he sighs in annoyance and rushes up the rest of the stairs. When he gets to the top, he pushes Garma back to his room. “Don’t leave bed, you might fall down the stairs. How did it get this bad just from walking in the rain?”

“I don’t think it’s from the rain…” Garma says slowly as they enter his room. It’s definitely the nicest room in the house, painted light lavender with little trinkets and memorabilia spread across the walls, giving it as much personality as he’s probably allowed.

“Then what?” he asks, trying to keep the concern out of his voice as much as he can. Garma hates it when people worried over him, trying to make sure he’s always perfect, even now when he’s this ill. And no, he doesn’t know that from listening in on his conversations on purpose. It isn’t his fault they sit next to each other and everyone seems to gather around him like moths to a flame.

“I forgot to get my flu shot this year…” Casval sighs and pushes Garma into the bed, pulling the covers up over him as he lays there shaking even worse than before. He scrapes Garma’s bangs off his clammy forehead and presses the back of his hand against it, feeling the skin burn under his touch. A fever is likely but he has no way of taking his temperature at the moment.

“It’s still likely you caught it during the rain, it throws your homeostasis out of balance and—”

“I know that!” Garma groans in protest, throwing his arm over his face.

“I think you’re right that it’s the flu, do you have any achiness?” Garma nods. “Lightheadedness?” Another nod. “Nausea?” One more. “Is there any flu medicine in the house?”

“I don’t think so…” The arm comes down just a little and Garma’s tired eyes peek out from behind it, throwing Casval’s heart for a loop. He takes a deep breath as he tries not to think about how cute he is and focuses on the task at hand.

“Tell me where they would be if you had them and if there isn’t any I’ll go to the store and get you some. If I leave you with this trash can and a bottle of water will you be okay alone for a while?” he asks and Garma nods slowly.

“It would be in the medicine cabinet in… a bathroom. Or maybe the cabinets under the sink? I don’t know…”

Casval pushes himself up from the side of the bed and starts walking out when his arm is caught. He looks back to see Garma staring up at him with a sly smile, his nose crinkled in the cutest way he’d ever seen as he sits forwards in his bed. His heart pounds in his chest and he wonders if somehow Garma had given him his flu and he’s already started to show symptoms as the sick, weak man easily pulls him back so he can whisper in his ear.

“I think I figured it out,” Garma says with amusement in his voice. A spike of panic shoots through him as he thinks maybe Garma has seen through him like Artesia had. There’s no way he’s that perceptive but maybe he hasn’t been as cautious as he’d hoped and— 

“Figured what out?” he asks instead of continuing down that ridiculous thought path.

“What I wanted to happen two days ago…”

“Oh?” He turns to face Garma and immediately realizes how big a mistake he’s made. He looks ill, of course, but more than that he looks fragile, almost delicate. His lips are parted slightly as he breathes heavily through them and the hand on his arm shakes violently with the strength it uses to grip his sleeve. Casval is torn between getting the medicine and wanting to just stay here, climb on the bed, and curl himself around Garma like a protective blanket.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Casval’s heart stutters and he almost gasps, his eyes now locked onto Garma’s lips as they quiver pathetically. “I still do.”

Casval’s mind goes blank at the statement and once again he finds himself drifting closer and closer to Garma who slowly closes his eyes and lifts his head so he’s in the perfect position to be kissed. He really might be ill with how light-headed he is at this exact moment, all other thoughts a million miles away as he inches ever closer.

But when he’s only five inches away, he stops himself. His rationality returned to him as a drop of sweat rolls down Garma’s nose and places itself right on top of his lips, reminding Casval how bad a state he’s in.

“I didn’t know people with the flu were also subject to delusions,” he says harshly as he pushes the hand off his arm and stands back up. Garma pouts and turns on his side away from Casval as he walks out of the room, grabbing the keys off of Garma’s bedside table. “And don’t move an inch.”

“Just go!” Garma yells, waving him off. He sighs, knowing his rejection had been more rude than he’d meant it to be, and closes the door behind him.

He walks solemnly to a bathroom and finds the medicine cabinet completely empty so he roots around all the other cabinets in all the other bathrooms which were almost all mostly empty except for one, filled to the brim with hair and skin care products. Likely Garma’s. He purses his lips as he goes back downstairs. His inventory of the Zabi bathrooms made him realize that one of the reasons this place is so barren might be because Garma is the only one who really lives here.

Even if his mother is out of town at the moment, the times she leaves the house for this long are rare. Even he himself goes with father more than she does. And Artesia’s at the house the most of all of them, sometimes it’s hard to get her to leave. Sure, their father’s almost never there but the Deikun household is by no means empty, not like the Zabi residence is. He’d always wondered why Garma came to their house so often but he thinks he understands perfectly now.

As he browses the selection of flu medicines at the corner pharmacy, he wonders why there isn’t even a servant taking care of him like a couple of days ago. No, it’s just Garma and the cleaning bots. And Garma had called Artesia who was busy studying for high school entrance exams rather than his family, had even accepted Casval’s help in her stead rather than call his family. The amount of self-sacrifice was ridiculous and it only makes him dislike the rest of the Zabis more. In his mind, it’s their fault he acts like this, that he feels he can’t rely on them without getting in their way.

By the time he gets back to the Zabi residence, he’s worked himself into an angry fit in Garma’s defense as the Artesia in the back of his mind teases him for his obsession. He takes a deep breath as he stands in front of Garma’s door—a refilled water bottle, sticker thermometer, and pack of flu medicine in his hands—and tries to collect himself. He’s here to serve Garma, to take care of him. Being mad won’t help anything. 

He opens the door and, thankfully, Garma’s inside spread out on his bed with the covers thrown off and his pajama shirt unbuttoned as he sweats even more and breathes erratically in his sleep. Casval immediately puts all the things he’d been carrying on the table and runs down to the fridge to see if they have any ice. There’s no ice pack but he puts ice from the fridge’s ice maker into a bag and runs back up to put it on Garma’s stomach as quickly as he can.

“Casval,” Garma whines as the ice wakes him up.

“Go back to sleep, Garma,” he reprimands as he puts one of the thermometer stickers on his forehead. A number blinks on the front after a few seconds: 39.6. They should probably call in a doctor, but Garma had been adamant no one other than the Deikun siblings know he’s sick.

“It’s so cold, Casval,” he complains.

“Then why’d you throw off the blankets? Can you swallow pills?”

“I don’t know…”

“Can you sit up?” He watches Garma struggle to move for a second before he puts a hand on his arm to stop him. “Can you stay up if I help you sit? We need you to at least drink some water and if this gets worse I might even call the doct—”

“No!” Garma shouts, suddenly gaining the energy to sit up straight. Casval stares at him with wide eyes for a second before rolling them at the predictability of his dramatics. “I’m fine,” he continues with a glare in Casval’s direction.

Casval just returns the glare and pops open a section of pills without breaking the contact. Garma is the first to look away as he lays back against the headrest and sighs heavily, closing his eyes as his sudden burst of energy loses its momentum.

“Here,” Casval says, motioning for Garma to open his mouth. Garma follows his instructions and holds the pills on his tongue as Casval gets the water bottle. The one he’d left doesn’t appear to have been touched and he curses himself for thinking Garma would have the strength to lift it.

Garma’s able to swallow the pills and almost as soon as Casval stops forcing water onto him, he falls asleep again. His panic dissipates as Garma’s breath slows and it seems as if his fever is broken. Quietly, he watches his crush sleep and though he knows he should stay awake in case something happens, Garma’s peace of mind is infectious and he can’t help but drift a bit.

“Casval.” His eyes blink rapidly as he tries to wake himself up and then jumps, only just realizing that his name has been called. He turns to Garma who’s laying on his back, looking up at him in amusement. “I woke up before you.”

“Blame yourself for looking so relaxed,” he replies. Garma snickers and Casval feels relief flow through him. “I’m going to stay the night, just in case it gets worse again. The flu usually lasts a few days so even if the worst seems over now, you still shouldn’t do too much.”

“I thought it was Artesia who wanted to be a doctor,” Garma teases. He holds down a blush as he reaches for the water bottle again, still unused to Garma being so bold with him. Had he really changed their relationship that much by offering him an umbrella when it rained?

“Who do you think cares for _her _when _she’s_ sick?” he replies, holding the bottle up to Garma’s mouth again. Garma struggles but this time is able to sit himself up without help.

“Your mother doesn’t?”

“She does when she can but she has her own problems, you know.” Garma nods as he brings his still-shaky hands up to the bottom of the water bottle, Casval holds the majority of its weight but the hands underneath his tell him when Garma had had enough. “Still nauseous?”

“Moreso now,” Garma replies.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“I tried to have toast for breakfast but I threw it up, so... yesterday evening?” Garma ponders. It’s already evening again. But if he’s more nauseous now than he had been earlier, he probably won’t hold anything down.

“Want to try sleeping for a few more hours and see how you feel then?” Garma nods, a sweet look on his face as Casval gets out his phone and tells Artesia to bring him a set of clothes and a sleeping bag.

“You’ll stay?” Garma asks softly, sleep filling his face again. Casval can’t help but smile at him as he nods, the wide, sleepy grin filling Garma’s face completely worth it. “I’m glad.”

Feeling particularly soft, Casval takes the melted ice bag off of him and pulls the forgotten covers back on top of him, tucking him in nice and tight as tired eyes blink blearily up at him. As soon as he’s sure Garma’s asleep, he bends down and presses a kiss on his forehead. Of course he’s going to stay. As his mother always told him, people heal faster when around the ones who care for them most.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!! please comment or leave kudos and if you'd like to contact me elsewhere, my twitter is @delatrose and my tumblr @mechaking


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